


My Wolf??

by Dolavine



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Come Eating, Derek Hale's Beta Form, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Jeep Sex, M/M, Uncut Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolavine/pseuds/Dolavine
Summary: Stiles and Derek patrol the woods. Things get heated and the Jeep is the best place to work things out.





	My Wolf??

Being teamed up with Derek Hale to patrol the woods for baddies is the most aggravating thing that Stiles has gone through this week. Not to mention that Mister Sourwolf isn’t the best company tonight.

“I didn’t want to come out with you tonight either,” is Stiles’s response to all of the frowning and sideways glances that Derek has been giving him since he showed up – as instructed by Scott – at Derek’s house so that they could patrol the woods together. “But Scott–”

“Talking isn’t stealthy,” Derek semi-snarls as he takes two steps ahead of Stiles’s pace.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles mumbles quietly as he steals a quick glance at Derek’s ass before speeding up to match his increased stride.

The clouds move over the moon, making the dense, already-dark area of the woods even darker. Derek’s eyes glow red as he adjusts his vision to see things better.

“Lucky that you have werewolf vision,” Stiles says as he’s fumbling through the heavy brush that Derek is easily evading. 

“You want werewolf vision?” Derek asks sarcastically. 

A branch hits Stiles in the face and knocks him backwards a few steps. “Damn!” Stiles exclaims angrily as he steadies himself. “Only if it comes without the bite.”

“It doesn’t.” Derek takes Stiles’s hand and puts it on the hem of his t-shirt. “Follow me, human.” He chuckles softly. 

“I don’t…” Stiles pulls his hand away in defiance but then quickly scrambles for Derek’s hem again as his foot goes into a hole and another branch hits the side of his face. “It can’t hurt to hold on for a bit.” Stiles clears his throat as his palm smoothes over the jut of Derek’s hip peeking over the low-slung waistband of Derek’s jeans. His fingers _innocently_ rest there.

Derek’s skin pebbles with the touch of Stiles’s warm fingers across his hip. He doesn’t say anything, just lets them settle there. He’s trying not to let them take his attention away from the task at hand, but it’s hard not to only think about those long fingers pressed into his skin.

The clouds open up and the bright moon shines down on them as they enter a clearing. Stiles holds onto Derek’s waist even though he can see quite clearly now.

“Stiles…” Derek stops and looks over his shoulder. “I’m not your service dog.”

“Huh?” Suddenly Stiles realizes he is still holding on to Derek’s hips. “Oh, yeah.” He chuckles as he reluctantly lets go of Derek.

A light breeze blows across the clearing and Derek picks up a scent. He’s not sure what it is, and to get a more accurate smell he partially shifts into his wolf. 

Stiles watches as Derek’s face morphs slightly, his fingers elongate, and his nails grow and form into claws. 

“What’s that scent?” Derek says, surveying the air with his heightened senses.

“I…” Stiles swallows hard as his mouth goes dry at Derek’s appearance. “Don’t know.” His eyes stare, his heart flutters, and his dick is tingling with arousal.

“Don’t be scared,” Derek says, sensing Stiles’s increased pulse rate.

“I’m not,” Stiles laughs nervously. “I just…”

Derek suddenly takes off at a run to the other side of the clearing.

Stiles watches, wondering what is happening. But he needs to take care of his situation with his hard dick before Derek realizes that he’s hot for him, especially for the wolf version. “I’m just going to go looking over… in this area,” he says into the night as he hurries off in the direction of his parked jeep.

Stiles throws the door open, his mind fixating on the tight bush of beard on Derek’s face, his claws and how they would feel raking over his overheated skin. He climbs into the driver’s seat and slams the door. He frantically unbuttons his jeans and shoves his right hand down inside of them, roughly palming his hard cock through his boxers. His eyes are closed as he pictures Derek kissing him as he scratches those claws down over his flanks, and grinding that big hard cock into his groin. His breathing is quick, his skin sweaty, and he is leaking precome that is dampening the cotton of his shorts. 

Derek quickly finds the source of the scent, discovering that a real wolf had killed a deer. He heads back to the clearing where he expects to find Stiles waiting, but he’s gone. There aren’t any signs of trouble so he sniffs the air, searching for Stiles’s scent. He picks up on the trail and runs through the woods. He slows down as the scent of arousal tinges his senses. It’s Stiles’s scent, saturated with arousal. Derek slowly approaches the Jeep, seeing Stiles in the driver’s seat, his head lulled back, eyes closed, heavy soft moans coming from his open mouth as his shoulder rotates. Derek knows what’s happening; he knows that Stiles is jerking off. His own cock twitches and he wonders why this boy ran off to his car to beat-off in the middle of patrolling. He steps up to the window and watches for a second, Stiles unaware of his presence. Derek’s enjoying the show. He licks his lips and bites his lower lip; his own hand rubs his crotch and pushes at the building erection before tapping on the window.

Stiles is lost in his fantasy, his fingers dipping inside of the slot in his boxers to circle his cockhead and smear the precome over it. He’s moaning as quietly as he can but he’s losing restraint. The idea of Derek grinding into him, smearing their precome together as he gyrates against him, has Stiles so hot. His hand circles the tip of his cock and starts to stroke shallowly, whimpering, his eyes squeezing tightly at the feeling of pleasure. He’s startled back into reality when the sound of tapping on glass breaks his concentration. His head jerks towards the window and his blurry vision settles on Derek’s face, wide eyes and lip caught between his teeth as his palm presses against the glass.

“What...?” Stiles sits up, his hand still down inside of his jeans and he doesn’t even notice. He rolls the window down.

“You okay?” Derek asks quietly, sort of sensually. His eyes glance at the hand stuffed inside of Stiles’s pants. He bites his lip harder.

“I… I’m fine.” Stiles stammers; he’s embarrassed but so far along that he can’t control his need.

“I can see that.” Derek says, his voice full of lust. “You…” He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants. He’s pretended for so long that he isn’t interested and that Stiles annoys him. “Doing alright?” His eyes follow Stiles’s arm down to the crotch of his jeans.

Stiles watches Derek’s face, hears his voice; his cock jerks and he smoothes his thumb over the head to ease the need to rotate his hips into it. “I, ah, I’m pretty much a pro at this by now.” He feels the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck and end at his forehead.

Derek swallows, his hand rubs at his now full erection. The smell of Stiles’s precome, his sweat, the lust-flushed pinkness of his cheeks, and that hand shoved down his pants coupled with the tiny movements of his thumb have Derek wanting to pounce him. “I think all guys are pros at that. But what I am asking is, do you want a hand with that? Or should I say an extra hand?”

Stiles just stares, his jaw dropped, his heart exploding. He isn’t sure he heard Derek right so he replays it in his head. _“Do you want an extra hand with that?”_ Yep, he heard that right. “Aaaa…” he falters, his brain catching up, “…always.”

“Great,” Derek says with relief and enthusiasm. He opens the door and climbs inside trying to straddle Stiles’s lap. “I’m ready to make you feel so good.” He grunts as he finagles himself between Stiles, the gear shift, and the steering wheel to settle across Stiles’s long legs. He fists the edges of Stiles’s soft red hoodie as he leans in to claim his mouth and kisses him. He’s pleasantly surprised at the eager willingness of Stiles, like he’s been waiting for this all night, and how he returns the passion with some skill and lusty hunger.

“Oh my god, so – so good.” Stiles mumbles into Derek’s mouth as he lets him have control. Stiles’s hand relaxes its grip on his erection. He doesn’t want to come just yet; he wants Derek to make that happen with those sexy wolfie hands.

Derek presses his groin into Stiles’s, trapping his hand against his cock as he grinds against it. “You like jacking off?” Derek asks breathlessly as he licks the shell of Stiles’s ear.

“Sometimes,” Stiles groans. “A strange hand is better… I hear.”

“You hear...?” Derek pulls back and looks into Stiles’s half-lidded eyes. 

Stiles reaches out with his free hand and pulls at Derek’s shoulder insistently. “Lack of experience here,” he says shyly. He nudges his hips but is barely able to get any more pressure.

“You’re a virgin?” Derek lets go of the hoodie and smoothes his hands down over Stiles’s chest while gauging his reaction. 

“I will make up for it in willingness.” Stiles gasps as he arches his back as best he can, his nipples hardening and poking through his shirt. Derek’s fingers close around the hard nubs and twist ever so slightly, sending shockwaves of electricity through Stiles’s body, making him pant and moan as he squirms with the pleasure-pain. His cock is jerking against his hand and his balls are tightening. He tenses up with fear that he will cream his jeans in font of Derek Hale, and then that will be the end of it all. “Stop – st – stop, please, I don’t wanna come yet,” he begs.

“Shhh, I won’t let you come. Yet.” Derek releases Stiles’s nipples. “I want this to be good for you, not just a strange hand, but your first time with someone.” He kisses Stiles again and feels his resolve fade, feels his shoulders relax against the weight of his body as he lies completely against him. “Tell me why you ran off to masturbate.” He kisses a line down Stiles’s long neck. “Tell me why you got so turned on that you had to run away from me and jerk off in your jeep.” Derek nibbles at the soft skin below his ear.

Stiles bites his lip and takes a deep breath at the feeling of teeth on his skin. “I don’t know, I’m a teenage guy, we’re always horny.” He clutches at Derek’s head, holding it in place as he revels in the feeling.

“You know, Stiles, just tell me.” Derek loves how Stiles’s hands feels threaded through his hair. He nuzzles the hollow of Stiles’s neck.

“Oh jesus,” Stiles whimpers, his skin pebbling with the intense feeling of Derek’s stubble against his throat. “I – I – have a crush on you.” 

“That’s obvious,” Derek kisses the hard jut of clavicle peeking out from under Stiles’s t-shirt. “Tell me what turned you on.” He bites a bit harder along the edge.

“Oh Christ, it was your wolf, when, when you beta-shifted,” Stiles moans, his fingers digging into the back of Derek’s neck.

Derek sits up. He looks down into Stiles’s lust-blown eyes, the rosy flush of his cheeks, and runs his thumb over the thin line of his lower lip, smearing it to the left. “My wolf? You get turned on by my wolf?” 

Stiles runs his tongue over the pad of Derek’s thumb before answering. “More than that turns me on, but yes, I think it’s sexy.” He sucks the tip into his mouth and nips at it.

Derek moves his hand along Stiles’s face and rubs his damp thumb over Stiles’s cheek bone. “Get ready.” He concentrates and beta-shifts.

“Shit.” Stiles touches the side of Derek’s face, runs his fingers over the bristles of hair, looks into his red glowing eyes, feel the sharp tinge of his claws as they scrape over the tender skin of his cheek. “You are gorgeous,” he says with awe. 

“This is my beast.” Derek’s mouth turns up into a snarl, his fangs showing completely.

Stiles pulls up and kisses Derek’s mouth, his tongue slipping inside to feel the fangs, letting Derek nip at his lower lip. “I am so hot right now.” 

“And I’m about to turn up the heat some more.” Derek leans back, his ass hitting the horn on the steering wheel. “Shit,” he grunts. “Move your seat back, I need more room.” 

Stiles fumbles to reach the handle and the seat slides backwards, clicking into place. “Better?”

“Much.” Derek positions himself closer, completely over Stiles’s crotch. He pulls Stiles’s hand out. “You don’t need this down there.” He puts the fingers up to this nose and smells the muskiness on them. He licks his lips then swipes his tongue over the tips of Stiles’s fingers. “Mmmmm.” He swiftly shoves his hands down inside of Stiles’s jeans to push them off of his hips, dragging the boxers with them and exposing Stiles’s hard erection. 

Derek smiles at the glistening head, positions his index and middle fingers at the base, and starts moving up along the shaft until he’s catching the head between his claws. He falters for second before moving over the head to gather the precome pooled at the tip. He raises his sticky fingers to his mouth; his eyes are fixed on Stiles’s hungry gaze as he seductively licks the treat from them. “So good.” He swirls his tongue over the sharp tips of his claws and then sucks them clean. “So much better even than it smells, and it smells amazing.”

Stiles gasps as Derek’s claws lightly scratch over the tip of his cock. He moans and grabs Derek’s sides, watching the show as Derek tastes him, enjoys his precome, and tells him how good he is. He wants to taste Derek, wants to give him pleasure as well. “Wanna see you too.” He scrambles to unbutton Derek’s jeans, his fingers fumbling with nervousness as he slides the multiple buttons open on the fly until he can push them off of Derek’s hips. He feels Derek shift position as he helps Stiles push them over his ass and free the thick hard erection hidden underneath. “God, it’s big,” Stiles says, licking his lips and looking at the purple flushed head and uncut foreskin turtle-necking it. “You’re not…”

“Circumcised?” 

“Yeah.”

Derek grinds down into Stiles’s lap. “Does that bother you?”

“Nope, it turns me on even more.” Stiles reaches down and touches it, his fingers lightly dancing over the head as a bead of precome forms in the slit. 

“That’s nice to know.” Derek moans at Stiles’s touches. He runs his claws down over Stiles’s t-shirt, putting tiny rips in it all way down to the hem. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt,” he says, feeling no remorse.

“It’s good.” Stiles closes his eyes at the sharp pricks as the claws rake over his abdomen. “So fucking good,” he moans.

“Oh, dirty mouth, huh.” Derek’s cock jerks and leaks at the sound of Stiles saying ‘fuck’. “I love dirty talk.” 

“I can talk dirty all you want, I practically have Tourette’s syndrome when I come hard.” He smoothes the warm slick precome over the head of Derek’s pulsing cock.

“Then talk dirty to me, tell me how much you like it.” Derek puts his claws away and wraps his hand around Stiles’s dick and begins to slowly, shallowly pump it. The back of his hand bumps the lip of the head before pushing down again to the base of the shaft. He leans in and breaths hot into Stiles’s ear. “Tell me.”

Stiles smiles shyly. He’s never let go in front of anyone before, never been with anyone before, but the pleasure rocketing through his body is almost uncontrollable. “Feels so fucking good the way you pump my cock.” He’s rocking into Derek’s hand. “Gonna jerk your big stiffy off and make you shoot on me.” He starts to jerk Derek’s cock, the foreskin sliding up and down with each stroke. “Wanna feel your hot come on my skin.”

“Yeah, that’s it, Stiles. Such a dirty mouth.” He increases his speed, his thumb coming up over the head of his boy’s dick; the thick stream of precome is drooling out over the head and makes the movements easier. His own hard-on is throbbing. He feels his balls tighten with need. “Yeah boy, jerk me off, make me paint you with my jizz.”

“Fucking hot wolf, my wolfie, all for me,” Stiles cries out. His racing heart is pounding out of his chest with excitement as he feels his orgasm building. His hand is squeezing tighter around Derek’s cock and he’s pulling harder, stroking faster, trying to coax the snake to spit all over him. “Give me the claws, scrape my dick, show me how brutally you can give it to me.”

Derek falters for a second, his mind processing the fact that Stiles just called him his wolf, but also that he wants him to be brutal with his cock. 

“Don’t stop,” Stiles whimpers, rocking his hips roughly into Derek’s grip.

“I won’t hurt you,” Derek says as he continues to pump Stiles without claws.

“I don’t want it to hurt; I want to feel your claws against me, gently scraping me as you make me come. Please…” Stiles begs, his eyes closing tight, waiting for the thing that he’s fantasized about for so long. “Fucking make me come,” he demands. His balls are tight and he wants to come, needs to come. His own hand rockets over Derek’s erection, the foreskin sliding over the head, and Stiles loves the feeling of it under his palm.

Derek can feel how close Stiles is and he wants to give him what he wants, so he lets his claws come out. He’s more cautious as they scrape the tight flesh stretched over veins, but the way Stiles reacts is worth it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Stiles screams. His body writhes, his hand pumping and squeezing Derek’s cock. “Fucking yes, goddammit, feels so good. I’m going to come, going to shoot all over your fucking wolf chest.” He opens his eyes and looks at the rough contours of Derek’s wolf, feels the sharp edges of his claws and he can’t hold back. His hips jerk up and he moans as his balls pulse and contract with each burst of come. “F –   
f – f – uck, yes, you make me so hot,” Stiles moans. His entire body is on edge and he suddenly feels Derek’s claws dig into his hip as he’s pushing him down against the seat.

“Yes, let it all out.” Derek is holding back his own release to let Stiles spray on him. He angles Stiles’s cock towards his chest and lets Stiles coat his t-shirt with the thick pearly strings of come. The scent overwhelms Derek and now he can’t hold back; he comes in an uncontrollable burst. “STILES!!” he grunts and paints Stiles’s chin and neck with his lust.

Stiles is done, his body exhausted, his cock over-sensitized from Derek squeezing it as he comes all over him. “So fucking hot, so much more than I could have ever imagined, so much more than my fantasies about you making me come.” Stiles touches the cooling wet dripping from his chin and pushes it up into his mouth. “Mmmmm, god, you, I need you to fill me up with this, let me swallow all of it next time.” He gives an impish grin and devious glance at Derek. 

“Next time,” Derek says breathlessly as he morphs back to his human form and falls forward onto Stiles’s body.

“You think you can do this to me and it’s over?” Stiles threads his fingers through the soft short hairs at the base of Derek’s neck.

“Ever heard of one and done?” Derek says with a sarcastic tone. His face is buried in the crook of Stiles’s neck, the smell of their release mingled and filling Derek’s senses, making him lust-drunk.

“Not in my vocabulary.” Stiles adjusts to get more comfortable. “I’ve been attracted to you since day one. Now that I’ve had you, I want you.” Stiles puts his hand under Derek’s ass and squeezes the round cheek.

“Oh really…” Derek sits up and smiles down at Stiles; he wipes his chin clean of the mess and then leans in and kisses him. “I guess you are worth a second round.”

“But not here.” Stiles’s legs are cramping from the tight space and heaviness of Derek.

Derek looks over his shoulder at his house. “I have a warm soft bed.” 

Stiles looks at the house too. “I like warm and soft… but not always soft, sometimes hard is really good.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek chuckles, and opens the door. 

“Oh, _now_ you want me to shut up,” Stiles laughs and Derek joins him.

The End


End file.
